Odd Girl In (11 page)

I rummaged around until I found a box marked “kitchen” and set it on Dad's workbench. When I ripped the tape off the top of the box, I pulled away a layer of packing foam to reveal photo albums.

“That's weird,” I muttered.

Dad had given me several albums of pictures when Mom left, but I'd never seen these. I opened one on top with “Our First Year” written on it. The pictures inside were of my parents' wedding and trips they took. I put the album aside and reached for the one underneath.

“That's year two,” said Dad from the garage doorway.

I jumped even though I didn't really have a reason to feel guilty. He strolled over and sat beside me.

“The albums you're holding lead all the way up until your birth,” he said. “You, of course, have the rest.”

I peered into the box at the years Dad had kept hidden in darkness. “Why aren't they all in the house?” I asked.

Dad flipped through the first year album. “Because they give me more pain than pleasure. But I didn't want to
deny you and your brothers any memories you would have wanted to keep. So I offered each of you the albums relating to your lives.”

“And I was the only one who took them?” The third album held baby pictures of Nick and Parker.

Dad shrugged. “I guess boys don't get as nostalgic as girls do about memories.”

“Or maybe Nick and Parker felt the same way you did,” I said. “It
is
hard to see her here.” I closed the album. “And then to wonder why she never came back.”

Dad put an arm around my shoulders and cleared his throat. I thought he was about to spout some words of wisdom, but all he said was, “I know.”

We sat in silence, staring at the albums until I said, “Why did you put them in a box marked ‘kitchen'?”

“Because I don't cook much,” said Dad with a sheepish grin. “I figured I'd never come across them.” He patted my leg. “I'd say you've completed your organization task, wouldn't you?”

“
Yes.
” I grabbed the box and glanced at him expectantly. “Is it okay—”

“You can keep the photos,” he said.

I hugged him, and we went back inside to find Nick and Parker eating dinner.

“Awww. Looks like we slept through some Dispose-All fun,” Nick said with a smile.

Parker shook his head. “Darn the luck.”

“Let me make it up to you, boys.” Dad winked at me. “Why don't the two of you start on the dishes and tomorrow, you can finish the garage?”

“Awww!” Nick said again.

I headed for my room with the photo box, but Parker yelled my name.

“Your friend Chloe called,” he said, pointing at the message board. “She said it was important.”

I groaned, remembering her request from Champs.
If you join an interesting group, let me know.

I'd teamed up with Trevor and hadn't said a word.

“Did she say what she wanted?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Something about hockey boosters?”

Feeling slightly relieved, I picked up the phone and dialed, barely managing a hello before Chloe cut in.

“Ms. Success was going over your social activities and found out we were in hockey boosters together,” she said in a rush. “She asked what we were working on, and … well, the good news is, she was impressed.”

“Really? By the banners we made?” I asked.

Chloe was quiet for a second.

“Was it the extra glitter?” I asked, smiling. “Or how we rhymed ‘score' with ‘more'?”

“Uhhh, that's the bad news,” Chloe finally said. “I didn't tell her about the banners. I kind of lied.”

I stopped smiling. “What?”

Chloe's voice came out barely above a whisper. “I said we were teaching elementary school kids about hockey.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. “But you don't know about hockey. You thought the goalie was an umpire.”

“I know,” said Chloe.

“And another girl thought the puck was a giant peppermint patty.”

“I
know
,” she said. “But now she wants to see the presentation we put together. Alex, we're doomed!”

I paced the kitchen floor, wishing I could reach through the phone and throttle Chloe. Of all the people to lie to, she chose the one who could send me off to private school.

“Alex?”

“Call the other hockey boosters,” I said. “Make sure they can get together tomorrow for an emergency meeting during homeroom. It's time for Hockey 101.”

The next morning, I showed up for the meeting decked out in hockey gear: pads, mask, and all. When I entered the
room where the girls were gathered, they all stared at me.

“Chloe's missing?” I said, my voice muffled by the mask. “That's too bad. I wanted all of you here at once.”

“What's … going on?” a girl asked nervously.

I pulled out a hockey stick and waved it at her. “I'm here to teach you a lesson.”

Several of the girls looked at one another and screamed, “We're all gonna die!”

“Woah!” I held up my arms and backed away toward the door. “Wait! Not that kind of lesson!”

“She's blocking the exit!” someone shrieked. “Go out the window!”

Chloe came through the door behind me. “
What
is going on? I can hear you guys screaming out in the hallway.”

“Chloe, look out!” one of the girls cried. “Alex is packing puck!”

I ripped off my mask. “Would you calm down? I just wanted to teach you about hockey.”

One of the girls, who was stacking chairs by the window, stopped. “Then why are you dressed like Jason from the Halloween movies?”

I stared at her incredulously. “I'm dressed like a hockey player. You know, the sport you're all so fond of?”

The girls looked at one another and then at me.

“Just … sit down,” I said.

While the girls settled into chairs, I brought out the posters I'd made.

“Oh, I like that one, with all the reds and blues!” said a girl who I remembered as Claire. “What is it?”

At this point, I had no idea why I was even surprised. “It's a diagram of a hockey rink,” I said. “Haven't you ever been to one?”

“Well, yes, but I'm not usually checking out the ice,” she said.

And then the lightbulb went on over my head.

“You're into hockey for the guys, aren't you?” I asked.

She nodded, along with several other girls.

“But we get bored quickly,” said Claire. “The guys go on and off the ice, like, every two minutes.”

“Yeah. As soon as you find a cute one, he's gone,” another girl said. “Or he loses a tooth.”

“And they're really clumsy,” piped up someone else. “They keep running one another into the walls.”

“You mean body checking,” I said with a smile.

Then I started with the explanations. I talked about checking, the blue and red lines, and the basics of the game.

“When do they try to rope the Zamboni?” asked Claire.

I sighed. “Never. It's for smoothing out the ice.”

By the time homeroom ended, the girls seemed to
understand hockey well enough to follow along with the presentation I'd put together.

“I owe you big time,” said Chloe, helping me take down my posters.

“Just don't lie to Ms. Success anymore,” I said.

Chloe smiled. “Deal. Speaking of Champs, what did you end up doing for your teamwork task?”

She and I stepped into the hallway, and I took my time navigating the crowd for an excuse not to answer. For some reason, I didn't think it wise to tell the whole truth, so I said, “I baked desserts with Emily for the slumber party.”

“Kissing up to the teacher's assistant.” Chloe elbowed me. “Clever! Not that I would have traded places with you in a hundred years.” She grabbed my arm. “Then you're still coming to the slumber party?”

“That's the plan,” I said.

“Great. See you at Champs tonight! I'll keep the seat by Trevor warm for you.” She gave me a conspiratorial wink and strolled down the hall.

Emily poked her head around the corner of a locker bay and I let out a startled yelp.

“Chloe likes Trevor too, doesn't she?” she asked.

I sighed. “Listen, you should just let it go. Let
him
go. It's not worth the hassle.”

Emily stared after Chloe. “You're probably right.”

But she didn't look like she believed me.

That evening when I got to Champs, Chloe wasn't warming my seat. Instead, to my annoyance, a grungy skater chick was there, talking to Trevor.

I cleared my throat. “Um, excuse me. I just had that chair disinfected.”

Trevor laughed, and the girl gave a derisive snort. “Geez, Alex. Relax!”

She caught my eye and I gasped.

Emily's perfect ponytail was gone. Her hair was now draped around her face, hanging to her shoulders … and she'd dyed it
black
. On top of that, her eye makeup was so thick that she'd have to peel it off in order to remove it.

“Em-Emily?” I could only stutter her name. All other words had left my vocabulary.

She smirked lazily and leaned on the desk. “That's what the kids call me.”

I glanced at Trevor, who gave an amused shrug. Then I grabbed Emily's arm and pulled her toward the door. “Let's step outside for a second.”

“What, the phrase ‘excuse me' isn't in your vocabulary?” She rolled her eyes at Trevor.

“Just go!” I pushed Emily in front of me.

Once I'd closed the door, she gathered her hair into its usual ponytail.

“That went well, don't you think?” she asked, beaming.

I stared at her. “
What
went well? Your frontal lobotomy?”

Emily frowned. “Excuse me?”

“You've lost your mind! And your stepmother,” I said as I flicked her black ponytail, “is going to kill you!”

Emily waved me away. “It's a wig, and Sharon already knows about all of this.” She made a sweeping gesture from her head to her ripped jeans, and I noticed for the first time that she was wearing an Ankle Biters T-shirt.

I pointed at it and exclaimed, “You don't even like them!”

“Shhh!” Her eyes widened and she pushed me farther from the door. “Trevor doesn't know that,” she said.

I marveled at her idiocy. “I'm pretty sure he'll figure it out when he plays one of their songs and you run away screaming!”

“That's not going to happen.” Emily tugged on the front of her shirt, as though even
wearing
something related to the band made her uncomfortable. “Besides, sometimes sacrifices are necessary to make romance work.”

“Wha—? Romance?” I dug my fingers into my hair. “Emily, this is stupid! You shouldn't have to change for
anybody
.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Chloe likes him too. The only way I can compete with her is to be Trevor's dream girl.”

“Dream? You're acting like a nightmare,” I scoffed.

Emily looked dumbstruck. “For your information, I learned this behavior from
you
!” She poked me in the shoulder. Hard.

My jaw dropped, but I quickly drew it back up. “Fine. Then let me teach you something
else!
”

Before she could react, I grabbed Emily in a headlock and dragged her to the drinking fountain.

“Augh! Let go! You'll mess up my wig!” She squealed and slapped at my arms.

“We're washing that eye makeup off,” I said. “If we're lucky, maybe some of your crazy will rinse away too.”

Someone turned the knob of the classroom door, and I instantly released her.

“Is everything okay?” asked Trevor, stepping into the hallway. “I heard screaming.”

“Everything's fine,” I said. “Emily was just singing an Ankle Biters song for me.” I bumped her shoulder. “Why don't you sing it for Trevor?”

Emily's face, which had been red from our struggle, turned redder still. “Oh, I don't think he wants, um …” She laughed nervously. “It's better with music.”

He smiled and nodded toward the door. “Come on. Class is about to start.”

Emily let her shoulders relax and gave a cocky half-smile, and sauntered into the classroom. I followed, searching for something large enough to knock her unconscious.

“Hello, Champs!” boomed Ms. Success as we got seated. “I hope your last few days have been almost as riveting as this interview I did.” She held up a copy of
Loud Women
. “Don't let the name fool you,” she said to a chorus of giggles. “People who make the most noise get the most attention.”

“And the most spit in their food at restaurants,” I whispered to Trevor.

He snickered into his hand, and Ms. Success whipped around to look at us.

“Alexis …” She pointed at me, and I knew I was busted.

“Yes, ma'am?” I said in my meekest voice.

“Our lesson today is leadership,” said Ms. Success. “I understand you know a little something about that.”

Everyone swiveled to look at me, including my brothers. That was
not
what I'd expected her to say.

“S-sorry?” I asked.

“The hockey boosters,” said Ms. Success. “Chloe tells me you jumped right into a leadership role when you joined.”

“Oh!” I hadn't thought of it that way, but I
had
taken charge of the boosters that morning.

Ms. Success gave me a thumbs-up. “I'm thrilled that my wisdom sank in so fast. Now, for the rest of you….”

Trevor nudged me while Ms. Success started the lesson. “Way to go!”

“Thanks,” I told him, glancing at Chloe.

She had turned partially in her chair and smiled when she saw me looking. I smiled back.

Maybe I had other girls figured out wrong. Maybe the slumber party wouldn't be so terrible. Maybe …